You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go.

I've been struggling, for the past several days with the notion of what I want and the notion of what I can have.  I've never been particularly good when the equation reads: 
What I want > What I can have.

What I want is someone to talk to.  What I want is someone to cook with.  What I want is someone who kisses me softly on the lips before I fall off to sleep, and wakes me in the morning with sleepy kisses, brushing my hair out of my face.  I want someone to read the paper with me over coffee on Sunday mornings, and to remind me that "euthenics" is a nine-letter word meaning "science concerned with improving standards of living" and that I always forget that one when doing the crossword.  I want someone I can see across a room look up and smile at me, and feel that jump in my heart because I know that perfect, gorgeous creature who is smiling at me, well, he's mine.  I want to be held and coddled.  I want to be cooed over and fussed at.  I want to be fucked hard and spanked harder and held down and forced to my knees.  And I want to honestly find comfort in the arms that hold me as I cry.

The sad truth is, I know I could have all that with Joe.  "Don't you know that I could make a dream that's barely half awake come true, I wanted to say."  I adore him.  I respect him.  I enjoy him.  I like him.  I love him.  I want him.  I need him.  As I've said before, we work together.  We fit.  We match. 

But Joe is married.  And yes, I knew this all along.  Have known it.  Believe me, it is not lost on me.  And, notwithstanding all of Joe's myriad admirable qualities (and Christ, those are voluminous), the one thing that Joe can't be for me is mine... the one place he can't be is here.  But mine and here are what I need. 

I know there are readers out there who will applaud Joe for not abandonning his marriage.  And to them I say, stop reading.  Now.  Or at least keep your mouth shut.  I don't want to hear it.  Because from where I sit, I've learned the hard way that life is short, and that regrets are poisonous.  I've learned that you have to make the most of every day, because you never know when the universe is going to give you a huge, psychic kick in the ass.  Sometimes there's the right thing to do and the "right" thing to do.  Hell, nobody knows that better than me.  What I've learned, through my own series of mistakes and false starts, is that if I do what's right for me, it works out best for everyone else involved.

I am so sad.  I am so tired.  I am still scared.  I am afraid this is the end of one of the best things that has ever happened to me.

"Is a dream a lie if it don't come true, or is it something worse?"
-Bruce

Darling Joe, you have no idea how much I'm going to miss you.  And I am afraid you have no idea how much I love you.

Comments

[orchidea]

"I've never been particularly good when the equation reads: What I want > What I can have."

Darling. I know it's no consolation, but I know exactly what you mean and I know how blinding and gnawing and heartwrenching and agonising and fucking insane it feels.

Much love,

orchidea

[C]

Just know I'm here to listen.

And I, too, have found that doing best by me is best for eveyone else.

[Joe]

Oddly enough, I think I now have a pretty good idea of just how much you love(d) me, actually.

Two weeks? Wow. That has to be some kind of record.